


Afterwards, I Come Home to You

by thecarlysutra



Category: Thunderheart (1992)
Genre: Banter, Boys In Love, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Canon, Returning Home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: You've been gone, and I've been missing you.From the prompt, “You can do this, but you can’t return my calls?”
Relationships: Walter Crow Horse/Ray Levoi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Afterwards, I Come Home to You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pink_and_Velvet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/gifts).



  
Ray walked in the door bone tired. The door wasn’t shut behind him before he heard, “I saw you on the news.”

Ray frowned. He closed the door, and set down his go bag. “No, you didn’t.” 

Walter came into the foyer from the living room, arms crossed over his chest. “So you were not on _World News Tonight_ last night?”

“I was. But it was a phone interview, and they masked my voice—”

“I’d know you blind, boy.” Ray blushed. Walter took a few steps toward him. About two feet between them now. “You could talk to them fancy reporters, but you couldn’t call me to tell me you were coming home? And don’t _deep cover, no contact_ me, Ray.”

Ray let out a breath. “That was thoughtless of me. You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s not about you, though; it’s about me.”

“Meaning?” 

Ray worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “Sometimes I forget. I forget that there’s somebody worrying about me when I’m on the job. That there’s someone waiting for me to come home. That sounds selfish, and if it is, I’m sorry—” 

“It’s not selfish,” Walter said softly, “and it’s not your fault. It’s how you got brought up working this deep cover for the FBI. I understand that part of it, Ray, I do. Doesn’t mean I worry any less—”

“I’m sorry for making you worry. This time and every time.” The tension in his face let up a little. “But I’m home now, and I’m all yours.” 

Walter grinned. “Is that so?” 

Ray closed the distance between them, looping his fingers through the belt loops of Walter’s worn blue jeans and giving a little tug. 

“That’s so,” he said. “And I know you’ve still got all these feelings about me going off, sticking my neck out, and not even calling about it. And I was just thinking: Wouldn’t you like to take them out on me?” 

Walter chuckled. “You’re gonna be the death of me one day, _kola_.” 

Ray pulled him closer. “Do you know what they call an orgasm in French, Walter?”

Walter slid his hands around Ray’s waist, pulling him in flush. “No, Ray. What do they call an orgasm in French?” 

“ _La petite mort_ ,” Ray whispered against his cheekbone, “the little death.” 

Walter kissed him slowly—his cheek, his jaw, the pulse point below—then bit down on Ray’s neck until he shivered. “Why is that, you reckon?” 

“I don’t know,” Ray breathed. “You wanna do a little research?” 

“You bet I do, baby.” 

Ray started away headed to the bedroom, but Walter grabbed him before he could get very far, then hoisted him up, carrying him like a groom lifting his bride over the threshold. 

“What are you—” 

“Quit wriggling; you’ll put my back out. Just hush and let me seduce you.” 

“I’m already seduced,” Ray said, but he relaxed and let Walter carry him to their bed.  



End file.
